


savour the amour

by zeltha



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Amortentia, Fluff, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Matchmaking, Unresolved Romantic Tension, basically daft boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 12:35:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13100250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeltha/pseuds/zeltha
Summary: Maybe a whiff of Amortentia and a forceful nudge from their desperate friends is sufficient enough to get the two daft gits on their correct minds, and to finally snog, at that.





	savour the amour

**Author's Note:**

> wasn't proof-read/beta'd, will be editing soon.
> 
> all characters belong to jk rowling.

Draco hated Potter, so fucking much he just wants to walk up to the Gryffindor table and snog him senseless. He hated his tattered hair, the strands peeking wildly and almost touching his cheeks. Can’t he afford a brush or a bloody working hair product?

He just wants to brush the hair away from his face so he could inspect his face better from the distance. If it weren’t because of those spectacles protecting his eyes, he’s sure that the locks of his hair would poke his green eyes. Oh Merlin, his eyes. His huge green eyes, the way it shows an amused glint every time he laughs. And again, those stupid round glasses blocks his eyes so Draco couldn’t see them too clearly. His lips, pink and plumped. Bottom lip slightly abused because he always bites them, the way he bites his lips. Fucking hell, that’s enough to make Draco fall more for the boy.

Wait, no. He hates him…right? He had to hate him, they’re known that way; Draco Malfoy, Death Eater and Harry Potter, The Chosen One, enemies since 1st year, known for getting on each other’s throats endlessly. If only the stupid git would accept his fucking hand on first year, he could be by Potter’s side every time, and maybe snog him senseless, too. Stupid Potter.

Draco huffed, and rested his head on his arms that is currently resting on the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. Pansy, of course, noticed again that the blonde had been staring at Potter. She smiled sympathetically at the boy, she knew about Draco’s undying crush towards Potter since 3rd year, she knew that deep down Draco didn’t want to taunt him and make fun of him, but he had to. For the sake of his reputation.

When Draco didn’t had the sense to annihilate Potter right then and there for not noticing him, he’s actually a quite right sap in the ass.

“Draco,” Pansy shook him in the arm, earning a groan from him. “Come on, let’s head to the common room.”

He pried his head from his arms and stood up, Blaise nudging him on the side.

“Come on, Drake. We’ll chat in the common room, yeah?” Blaise gave him a reassuring smile.

Only Blaise and Pansy knew about what he has towards Potter. He saw Potter making his way out of the Great Hall with Granger and Weasley. His eyes crinkling slightly and it gleams as he laughed at something Weasley had said to him. Pansy tugged at his arm and dragged him out of the room to the hallways. Only to be meeting face to face with Harry _fucking_ Potter.

He felt himself tense up slightly, unable to do anything, he sauntered up to him as a usual ritual to mock him.

“Potter,” he wanted to taunt him, but nothing came out from his mouth. Instead he just stood there, cornering Potter by the wall so Potter’s back met the wall. Potter looked up, his green eyes meeting grey. “What do you want, Malfoy?”

Exasperation lilted his voice, his eyes staring into Draco’s, eyes green and persistent, and pupils slightly dilated. He kept his gaze on Potter, the air suddenly awkward for the both of them. Pansy facepalmed at the pesky encounter and Blaise snickered. Draco was completely frozen, and so was Potter.

Potter scented strongly of male cologne he didn’t recognize, but it had an original scent that always etches on him, a sweet strike of treacle tart, also there was an indistinct whiff of grass and musk? Absolutely manly of him. Hm. Heavenly.

Okay. Why is he sniffing Potter now?

Harry leant back slightly as his back met a wall and Draco’s hand on the other side of the wall, his hand slightly brushing his cheek since it was so close to touching his left cheek. He could feel Potter’s minty soft breaths huffing on his face. They were just staring at each other, no words coming out from their systems, they forgot about Granger, the Weasel, Pansy, and Blaise’s existence. Until he heard Granger fake a cough, and he automatically averted his gaze from Potter, turning ruby, and shoved him to the side, walking away, Pansy and Blaise following him from his back, nodding to the Golden Trio.

Harry was dumbstruck, what even was that? Malfoy came up to him and just stood there staring at him, he even fucking blushed and of course, shoved him. Even Ron and Hermione was confused, though Mione has already acknowledged Harry’s little crush on Malfoy, Ron however, didn’t. He would probably blow up.

“Bugger. What the hell was that?” Ron scoffed, taking Hermione’s hand. “Are you alright, mate?” He asked, slight worry lacing his voice.

Harry nodded, eyeing Hermione. Mione smirked at him, a knowing look glinted in her eyes that they’re definitely talking about this later. Students rush out from the Great Hall, either they have breaks or lessons. Mione and him got break, then afterwards Potions with Slytherin.

Ron checked the time, “Shit, I have Quidditch practice. Are you coming, Harry?”

“Nope, I had mine yesterday. I have to do my Transfiguration essay now.”  Harry forgot that he has to do his Transfiguration essay because McGonagall’s stern glare and a disapproving cluck of her tongue already frightens the living daylights out of Harry.

“Oh, alright. See you both at Potions.” Ron smiled, pecking Hermione’s cheek and patting Harry’s back. Hermione blushed and mumbled a “bye”, followed with a beam as Ron prowled away.

Harry smiled at the couple, it’s obvious that Ron and Hermione fell in too deep for each other. They’re pretty much inseparable since 1st year, Harry just feels like a thirdwheel sometimes. When the couple is acting revoltingly lovey-dovey with each other, Harry just busied himself staring at his suddenly interesting shoes or just determinedly march away.

He used to have Ginny and they dated in 4th year until 5th until he figured out his burgeoning sexuality. Ginny was of course, upset beyond belief, and she’s pretty much still trying to get Harry’s attention back. When Harry broke things off with Ginny, Ron didn’t even speak to him for the whole month, guess he just don’t want to see his little sister with a broken heart, and the one who broke it is his best mate himself.

But to be perfectly frank, Harry never felt anything towards Ginny, he had always considered her as a sister. It felt weird because it just felt like he’s dating another version of Ron with a pair of breasts. He was just going out with her because he owed so much towards the Weasley’s and Ginny was implausibly head over heels over him, he didn’t want to upset her and didn’t want her running and crying to Ron about how Harry rejected her. Well, she did.

He, in fact, didn’t like kissing girls. That time when Cho kissed him because she was reminded of Cedric in the Room of Requirement, the kiss was awfully sloppy and wet, and her mouth was too small and it wasn’t firm and forceful; same thing goes to Ginny.

Once he was dared to kiss Dean during a muggle game called _Spin The Bottle_ with a couple bunch of Gryffindors, and _oh dear_ , his lips were surprisingly soft, but demanding and firm. But of course, they’re just friends, Dean’s with Seamus after all. Since then he was completely sure that he likes to kiss blokes better. They’re currently in an additional 8th year after the war, some students chose to come back, a small portion of it, really. The rest of them was still too shocked to process everything after the war, and some of them just can’t step into Hogwarts the same way they did with pure adoration in 1st year. Now it was fear and anxiety flooding their systems, not delight. McGonagall gave students a chance to catch up to lost education because of the war going on then.

Harry was undeniably well known now, if he wasn’t famous before, just say that he’s even more famous than before. He’s got all the attention, his face almost in every latest edition of Daily Prophet, and everywhere he goes in the Wizarding World everyone knew him. People worship and probably kiss the grounds he walk in, Merlin, he hoped they didn’t. He just can’t catch one single break even after Voldemort’s death, he doesn’t like all of this attention. He’s still a boy and it overwhelms him that everyone recognizes him everywhere.

Malfoy. At first he hated him, no no, he _loathed_ him. Until in 5th year he saw Malfoy on the broom 5 feet from the ground, looking so free, his hair tangled in the air as if the wind was running an invisible hand through his platinum locks, his robes draping around him, and his laughter. It’s almost illegal for him to laugh because it’s just so nice to hear, infectious almost. The sneer that usually etches his face is gone with the wind, he looked so free, an expression Harry thought he would never see from Malfoy.

Since then Malfoy plagued his mind and since then he has a mute obsession for him. Hermione was confused seeing his unusual skittish behaviour, and decided to query Harry about it, but Harry only shook his head and turned a deep shade of scarlet if that’s even possible. Until one day he saw Harry gazing intently at something in the Great Hall, and she followed his gaze to see who’s he’s staring at, leaving Malfoy in the end of his gaze who was talking to Zabini, and Hermione being Hermione, she always figures things out.

Hermione and Pansy has gotten quite close after they were partnered together by Snape in Potions a couple years back, and they told each other about the boys crushing at each other.

They’re planning to set them up together because they’re quite sick of the unresolved tension and how they’re oblivious towards each other’s feelings. The taunting between the both of them had quite died down, albeit there’s still shovings and name callings.

“Mione, would you help me with Transfiguration essay? I’m sure McGonagall’s sick of my crap now.” Harry asked pleadingly. Hermione nodded and gestured for him to follow her to the library.

* * *

 

“Pansy, I literally just embarrassed myself in front of him and his friends! Oh Merlin I must look like an absolute idiot, I bet he’s talking and laughing about me with his two little midgets.” Draco groaned, relaxing his back on the velvety sofa at that the Slytherin common room has provided.

“First of all, yes, what the absolute fuck was that? I got second hand embarrassment from all of that earlier. Second of all, don’t call Hermione that, she’s actually nice, you know.” Pansy sat herself on Blaise’s lap on the carpeted ground, her back falling on his chest in a steady rhythm.

“What, since when do you care? And since when are you even on first name basis with Granger?” Draco stared at her, Pansy friends with Granger? What a miracle this is.

“Since she became my friend, you absolute idiot. We were partners in Potions and we became friends ever since,” Pansy grinned, showcasing her teeth. “If you want to start things off with Potter, I suggest you try to stop being a jerk to his friends.” Draco stared at her in disbelief as he never expected these words coming out from the girl’s mouth, before mumbling a “fine”.

There wasn’t much people in the Common Room, just a few 5th years and 6th years sitting in a circle in the other side of the room, the rest of the Slytherins completely out of sight. Draco fiddled with his fingers, closing his eyes as he recall the earlier event. Potter’s green eyes, stern yet delicate, staring back into Draco’s. The green of his eyes were dark, golden specks enhancing his eyes. The outer ring of his eyes were dark, his iris is a spectrum of green and light yellow. They were mesmerizing, yet hypnotizing.

He was lost in his train of thoughts about Potter’s eyes until he heard a deep voice spoke, “You know, Draco, if you like him that much, just ask him out. What’s there to lose? I mean, we’re currently in 8th year and after this we’re not here anymore and there’s a chance you won’t even be seeing Potter anymore. It’s now or never, really. Get him before it’s too late, you don’t want to see him with a wife and little Potter babies in the future and you ending up unhappy being with some rich, snobbish pure-blooded girl that your Father has arranged for you that’ll stop by for tea every Saturday noon and has lunch dates with your Mother do you?” Blaise chuckled then smiled, and went back to playing with Pansy’s hair. Pansy hummed in agreement.

He thought over about what Blaise had said, _It’s now or never, really._

He looked to his left and saw Pansy on Blaise’s lap, Blaise twirling with Pansy’s dark hair, and Pansy resting her head on the crook of his neck. Her eyes were shut, and Blaise was staring at her, smiling some times. Ugh, his disgustingly cute friends. Can’t they see that he’s single as a straw here?

He might look like a lovesick puppy but his father never provided him any love, besides his mother on his early ages. Since he was never taught to love and was born in power, he is trying to find his own love which ends up to Harry _fucking_ Potter.

He could choose to love a beautiful and young pureblooded girl that his Father would surely approve of, but no, his apparently raging hormones just had to land on the spectacled git.

The atmosphere in the Common Room was serene, but Draco’s mind was far from being quiet. Tranquility radiated from the boy’s body but not his racing mind. All he could think of is the boy, he tried to list out the things he hated about Potter.

After pretty much debating with his own head, he can’t seem to find any flaws when it comes to Potter. Draco sighed and glanced at the clock in the wall. _Crap,_ they were late to Potions. He stood up from his comfortable position and kneeled to shook the sleeping couple on the floor.

“Quick up, we’re gonna be late for Potions.”

* * *

 

Harry and Hermione sat in the library, Mione telling him the things and giving out her notes to Harry. Harry sighed, quill in hand, and wrote all the important things based on Hermione’s notes. He rarely take notes in Transfiguration, he would just doze off in class, resulting him getting scolded by McGonagall and snickers from the others. His hand eventually grew tired so he put down the feather quill and leant back in his seat.

He thought about how close Draco was to his face, his soft puffs of minty breaths shooting towards his face. He immediately blushed to himself and dragged his hands to his face to hide his embarrassment. He swore he almost squealed, for Merlin’s sake, he felt like a 12 year old girl who just saw her crush walking by. Hermione who was reading a thick book noticed her friend’s odd behaviour and decided that this is time to talk about the earlier encounter.

“Harry,” Hermione nudged him playfully, dragging the _‘y’_ in Harry. “What are you blushing about, huh?” Her voice teasing. He then looked over to his left, facing a smirking Hermione.

Hermione gasped at the sight of him and brought a hand to her mouth, muffling uncontrollable laughter. He cocked his head, why is she laughing?

“Why are you laughing?” Harry frowned, face reddening even more.

It actually took her a minute and a half for her to reduce her laughter, “It’s just,” She giggled again. “You’re beet red, Harry!” Her statement made blood creeping up his neck and face again, forming a really, really obvious blush.

“No, I’m not!” And of course, that just made Harry blush even more. Hermione chuckled then grabbed her wand and conjured a small mirror and handed him the reflective object with carved pinewood designated at it’s sides.

He took a shuddering breath and faced the mirror, only to be greeted by his own face, and _holy shit_ , she wasn’t lying; Harry’s face was so red, scarlet red creeping to up neck and ears and his full face. His glasses slightly drooping off his nose, he pushed it back to inspect his face better. He was really blushing like a massive idiot.

Seeing his own face, of course made him turn ruby even more.

“Stop it, Mione!” Harry mumbled, burying his face in the table. Hermione shrank the already small mirror and plopped it inside her robe pocket. She then placed a hand in his back, then smiled thoughtfully.

“It’s absolutely ridiculous that your biggest rival from 1st year could make you as red as a tomato over here, “ She giggled while patting her back, earning a disgruntled grunt from the hero.

“Hey come on, Harry, it’s okay.”

He then faced her, face to face, “What even was that encounter! He even blushed afterwards! I’ve never been so confused in my entire life.” Harry jabbed his raven hair.

“Not even after when Umbridge gave you detention for doing absolutely nothing wrong?” Hermione snorted, recalling the memory in 5th year when her, Ron, and Harry passed by Umbridge in the hallways and he immediately got sent to detention for absolutely no explainable reason. Seems like Harry’s existence is bothering her so much.

“No, she just dislikes me very much so I see nothing wrong with it.” The boy said airily, snorting as his thoughts wandered to when the centaurs snatched Umbridge. He’s honestly still confused why he told Mione that they needed to rescue Umbridge, but then in realization he was upmost glad that they left the lady in pink to the hands of the centaurs.

“Fair enough,” she raised her brow, and her expression quickly turned into a devious grin. “I think he has feelings for you too, you know. Your utterly daft brain just can’t process that,” Of course, she earned a gentle smack in her arm and a playful _‘Hey!’_

“You should really ask him to go to Hogsmeade with you during this upcoming weekend. Have you seen how he looks at you at classes and during supper? It’s actually sickening that I bet the half of Gryffindor is sick of him staring at you every time in the Great Hall. Then again, if he rejected you, then alright, nothing wrong with it other than me having to deal with your heartbroken arse until I step into my deathbed.” Hermione muttered the last sentence. Harry frowned at her and stared at her as if she has grown two heads.

“Oh, so the possibility of him teasing and recklessly embarrassing me about it, _‘Potter asked me on a date, how cute’_ blah blah, the possibility of me embarrassing myself in front of the guy I daydream about in almost every class, the possibility of me being made fun by Slytherins and the whole Hogwarts because he told everyone, the possibility of the whole Wizarding World knowing that I have my eyes set on the man that they all dearly and truly hate even though he did nothing wrong, _I’ll have you know that_ , and the possibility of _me_ , living with that embarrassment for the rest of my life! Yeah, absolutely nothing wrong with it.” Harry made over-the-top flailing gestures with his hands and scoffed in the end of the sentence.

“Or maybe the possibility of living with him for the rest of your life,” Hermione wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, only to be replied with a glare from Harry.

“Oh come on, Harry. Stop being such a drama queen, if he rejected you then it’s okay. You won’t see him after this year because we’ll be out from this place; so he won’t tease you about it. Please Harry, think about it,” She said, softening. “I beg you, ask him out or I swear to Merlin’s sake I will convince Filch about your undying love towards him.” The soft Hermione went to a threatening one in a heartbeat, as ridiculous as that threat sounded, he really don’t want to get involved with Filch since the greasy killjoy would shoot him disgusted stares and give him the cruelest detention if he ever got into another one.

He hesitated and opened his mouth, only to have it closed again, “I’ll try to at least if he doesn’t run away or at least punch me in the face before I can even finish the sentence.” Harry grumbled, already envisioning the scene where he asks Draco out and him already bolting away before he can even finish “will” in “will you go out with me”.

“Oh I bet you he won’t even run away,” Hermione smirked, vaguely reassuring that Draco won’t, _can’t_ even because she’s sure his knees’ll go weak.

“And how would _you_ know that?” He challenged, facing Hermione in the face, arching an eyebrow at the bold statement.

“I just know and you’re too oblivious to observe other people, Harry.” She said matter-o-factly, going back to her book, hinting that he should really observe how Draco stare at him lovingly like a lost puppy in the Great Hall.

“Right.” He mumbled.

* * *

 

“For this upcoming project you will be brewing Amortentia, does any of you know what that is? I’m sure some of you had heard of this when we discussed about this a while back in 5th year,” Snape started monotonously, his tone not going any lower nor higher. Just dull and monotone. “I won’t bother explaining you the whole thing anymore, so I’m just going to vaguely put this into words; Amortentia is the strongest love potion. You can research it more on your own because I have much better things to do than explain it all to you again if you’re going to forget about it again.”

“And you will be partnered,” The classroom erupted into cheered hushed voices, some already deciding their partners.

“And _I_ will choose.” Snape added, resulting groans from the class.

“Quiet.” The class sat still automatically, staring at Snape impatiently waiting for him to announce their partners.

Snape scanned the classroom, already deciding the partners in a split of a second if that’s even possible. He announced the partners, “Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy,”

At the announcement Ron’s jaw went slack as he tried to form a sentence, but stuttered. Oh there’s absolutely no way he’s going to get partnered with that git.

Across the room he saw Hermione shooting him a pitiful look, although it looked like she was trying to muffle a laugh. He scanned the other side of the room once again to see Malfoy letting out a groan and Parkinson patting him in the back.

“Harry,” whispered Ron in an impatient tone. “I don’t want to be partnered with that little prick!”

 _Well I do_ , Harry thought. “You gotta accept it, Ron. Nevertheless I heard he’s quite excellent in Potions so you won’t be having too much problems if your potion failed.” He whispered back airily, fingers clacking on the wooden desk as he waited for his name to escape Snape’s mouth.

Ron furrowed his eyebrows, “As if he would ever lend me a hand if my potion failed in any way, and I don’t want his help, I can do it myself.”

He rolled his eyes at this childish statement the ginger had said, Ron sucked at Potions as much as Harry does, too. If not Ron is a little bit better at it than Harry as his girlfriend is always pushing him to study Potions with her every time, and Harry always had the chance to run away every time Hermione asks to study together with Ron and her. The girl might look harmless, but when it comes to studying, she will push you to your limits so then your results will exceed expectations even if she teaches you in the harshest way possible.

“Hermione Granger and Theodore Nott,”

“And I thought that I was the luckiest man alive.” Ron grumbled once again, jealousy somewhat rising in him. “That would be you though who earned the title.”

“Oh let her go for once will you? It’s not like she’s going to realize her feelings for Nott in the end of the project and run off to the sunset to raise little Nott children and abandon you.” Harry finishes in one take of breath, shooting a glare to Ron.

The ginger stared back at him in horror, “Mate now you’re really scaring me.” Harry rolled his eyes once again at the vision of Hermione leaving Ron, those two are attached to the hip and Ron would probably be in an endless heartbreak if she did so, but he knew she won’t do that. Hermione is an extremely loyal person and she is true to her actions and words, especially her feelings.

“Pansy Parkinson and Harry Potter,” Snape grimaced as his last name rolled off his tongue, the word felt bitter in his mouth. But didn’t say anything further.

Harry nodded to Parkinson in the other side of the room, receiving a curt nod from the black haired girl. She saw Draco pouting a little in the corner of her eye, knowing that he is obviously jealous of Snape’s decision of pairing Pansy and Harry. She then decided to be the little sly person that she is and decided to tease him about it.

“Guess who got your precious little boyfriend,” She wiggled her perfectly sculpted brows, earning a glare from the pure-blooded boy.

“First of all, he is _not_ my boyfriend,” he gritted his teeth letting the loud whisper escape his mouth, loud enough only for both of them to hear it. “Not yet, at least.” Pansy muttered. And once again, earning a deadlier glare from the boy as he decided to ignore the statement.

“Second of all, say anything about me and I swear to Salazar’s sake I will not hesitate to dump you in the Black Lake and leave you there frozen for an eternity and leave you eaten by the creatures living there.” Draco threatened in a whisper, trying to be serious and scary but deep down knowing he won’t do that to her no matter how awful the girl is.

Pansy didn’t seem amused, just raised a brow not feeling a little bit threatened.

“But what if _he_ starts talking about you?”

“Probably it’s going to be trash talking, ‘ _How can you stand being friends with that slimy git, Parkinson? I pity you dearly_ ’,” He mimicked Potter’s tone “and bollocks like that. He won’t talk about me in any other way.” He murmured.

“Oh nonsense! He offered truce to you in the beginning of this school year remember? Even though the both of you still acts like complete children and still mock each other but let’s be honest, it died down right? I know why you still make fun of him, Draco, that’s the only way for you to talk and actually communicate with him.”

 _Huh._ A point to Pansy Parkinson for being absolutely correct that Draco Malfoy seeks attention by making fun of the Saviour of the Wizarding World, spread that to Rita Skeeter and Draco would get even more attention by everyone for being such a pathetic sod.

“He bloody protected you from stinging hexes that other students shot you, he defended you when someone talked lowly of you and gave them a 10 hour lecture about how you being a death eater doesn’t matter because the war has ended and how it’s just a branding that neither of you asked for,” Pansy took a calm breath and smiled at Draco’s eyes widening at her hushed outrage, then she continued softly. “I’d say that he feels the same about you, Draco.”

Pansy finally had enough of his self-pity and him thinking that the other boy considers him as a enemy, she’s trying so hard to hint that the raven haired man is just equally head over heels for him, but he seemed to be so oblivious that no matter how many times Pansy’ll drill those words into his daft and thick brain, he’ll always seem to get the wrong point.

Draco’s eyes widened at the long sentence the girl had said which she let out in one take of breath as it seems. It’s actually true, Potter had asked for truce to Draco, representing the Golden Trio and himself after the war. Draco hesitantly accepted, fearing that it was all for a good laugh.

Never in his life would he thought Harry Potter would offer peace to him. Draco would do anything to make his life hell since 1st year after Harry got the guts to reject his handshake, _Draco is still very much offended thank you very much for asking._

He actually protected Draco too when other students directed all kind of hexes to him and defended him when anyone talked crap about him. He would say that Harry feels the same too, but he doesn’t want to get his hopes up too high and it would be very much impossible for the hero to ever understand his feelings. There’s absolutely no way Potter can be with him, who wouldn’t be ashamed to be with someone like Draco?

“Who are you and what have you done to Pansy Parkinson? Last time I checked Pansy wasn’t this wise and didn’t give utter shit when it comes to people’s feelings,” Draco stared at her as if she’s a much different person, well she kind of is. War changed people after all. “And I don’t even know if that’s a good thing or not.”

“Shut it.” Pansy glared at him but is trying hard to fight a cocky grin from showing up on her face, she actually liked both of her personalities. Since she was sorted Slytherin people only see her for her slyness, but deep down she’s a huge softie that likes cuddles from Blaise and helping people.

“There’s no way he could ever like me, or anyone in general with this ugly branding on my fucking arm.” He muttered, drowning himself in self pity.

“Don’t you once say that no one could ever love you with that mark on your forearm, you didn’t ask for it and there will be one that’ll truly understand you.” Pansy chided inaudibly, picking at her freshly manicured nails, observing them closely.

“Blaise Zabini and Padma Patil,”

“Millicent Bulstrode and Neville Longbottom,” Snape droned on and on.

The rest of the list of the pairings names went by in a blur in Harry’s ears, he was too busy absentmindedly staring off at the wooden table in front of him, and occasional glances to Draco who seems to doesn't notice him back—when he does, actually.

The other students chattering suddenly vanished into white noise in the back of his mind, like a bunch of irrelevant background music combined in a movie where Harry and Draco are the main characters. They were talking in words while him and Malfoy looks at each other with feelings, just never at the same time.

“I expect you to collect your assigned potion and essay to me next week in my desk. If not, you know the consequences,” Snape flicked his tired but persistent eyes to the occupants of the classroom, “Scram now, class dismissed.”

Snape left the classroom in a blink of an eye, robes swishing elegantly behind him, hugging his potion book to his chest. As the Potions Master left the room, the class erupted into synchronized groans.

“I swear, Snape is the absolute worst when it comes to pairing!” Ron groans, “I mean, Malfoy?”

“Stop acting like a child, he’s not that bad now.” Harry muttered, flicking his eye to Hermione that is chattering with Theo and gestured for them to leave the classroom.

Hermione slipped from her desk and waved to Theo and joined the two, muttering words from the thick book that she practically planted her eyes in. Ron shot a glare to the Slytherin, earning an eyeroll.

“Theo wants me to work on the project now, not in the Slytherin dormitory obviously, they would probably evict me immediately. So we’ve decided to research some things first in the library.” Hermione started, still focusing on her book.

“Now?” Ron wheezed, snaking his arm around her suave waist.

Hermione turned around to face him in the face, “Yes, Ronald. Now. So if you don’t mind, stop clinging on me like I’m going to be off with Theo and have Nott babies.” She stated sternly as she tried to unlaced the insistent freckled arm that is laced around her waist like a sloth.

Ron’s arm clenched harder around her, earning a slight grunt from the girl. “That’s _exactly_ what Harry said!” Ron’s eyes bulges in horror as he stared at Harry, who was trying not to laugh by the way, and an irked looking Hermione.

“Ron, if you don’t let me go now, you won’t be getting anything later.”

His arm immediately dropped and he set his arms up, “Fine, _later_.”

Harry’s face twitched in disgust, “I don’t even want to know what you’ll be doing later.”

* * *

 

Harry separated from Ron that was trying to get answers for his Herbology essay from Neville in the Gryffindor common room where Neville is currently sitting in the plush red couch. He walked down the corridors by himself and heard distant chattering nearing his way as he walked further down the dim lit corridors.

He walked around the corner to reveal Parkinson and Malfoy, suddenly freezing in their way, faces looking stunned before the bobbed hair girl’s face turn smug.

“Potter!” She chirps obnoxiously, “when are you available to work on the project?

Harry scratched the back of his neck, “Uh, anytime?”

“Great! How about now?” She switched sides from Malfoy to Harry’s side.

“I guess?” Harry questioned and unabashedly cringed at his own answer. Parkinson suddenly waltzed next to him and Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise towards the girl that tried to hand him to the hands of Voldemort.

The girl laced her slick arm around his shoulders and smirked towards the implicitly fuming blonde in front of her, his eyes glazed of spite and hurt as he shot an indistinct sneer to Pansy. Harry however, wasn’t paying attention to Malfoy’s expression as he was busying himself with trying to unlace himself from Parkinson’s possessive grip.

Draco sighed looking at the raven haired boy’s effort trying to get himself out of Pansy’s arm, “Pansy, let him go. Can’t you see he’s uncomfortable?”

“Oh, he’s comfortable alright, right, Potter?” She broke a crooked grin to the exasperated raven.

“Uh,” He bit his lip.

“Potter, it’s useless to try and detach yourself from her grip. She’s a bloody sloth, that she is.” Draco sighed.

“Well, we best be going, Draco! Toodles!” As Pansy mercilessly dragged the poor boy to walk with her fast pace, she stopped for a second to whisper on Draco’s ear who was currently adorned with silent jealousy.

She whispered, “You’ll thank me for this, Draco. I don’t have anything towards your man.” Then shot a brazen smirk and sauntered away with a complaining Potter on her grip.

Draco stood shell-shocked in place, what does that mean? Pansy isn’t going to confess _his_ love to Potter right? Or tell him about his petty crush he had for him for God knows how long? Oh Merlin, he hoped to dear life that Pansy isn’t going to fuck things up for him.

At the time Draco was going to proceed to continue his now lonesome trip to the dark Slytherin chambers in the dungeons, he heard his name bellowed by one particularly annoying voice. Weasley.

“Hey, Malfoy!” Weasley shouted even though he was pretty much 3 feet away from him. Draco cringed and tried not to cover his ears after the particularly loud call. He mentally prepared himself and turned around to see the ginger clutching what looks like a herbology textbook in his arms and he was as usual, adorned in his Gryffindor robes.

“Can you be any louder than that, Weasley? I’m literally right in front of you, you can call me normally, not by startling the whole Hogwarts. I’m not deaf, you idiot.” Draco scowled.

Weasley glowered at the particularly devious chide and shook his head, “Have anything to do this particular evening? We have to do the Potions project quick so I don’t have to deal with you anymore later on.”

Draco should felt offended, at the slight, but no, he himself didn’t want to see the Weasley’s face in a daily basis much either. “Ergh, can we do it tomorrow morning? I’m exhausted and I need my beauty sleep.” He smirked.

“Bleh, beauty sleep is just going to make you even more slimier that’s for sure, Malfoy.” His face twitched to one of disgust. “No, we have to do it now. I have some errands to run tomorrow.”

“Cancel them.” Draco says blandly, raising an eyebrow.

“You think it’s that easy to cancel a plan, Malfoy? You snobby rich boy.” He snorted

“Fine. Now then, in my room in the Slytherin chambers. Follow me if you don’t want to cancel you imbecilic plan for tomorrow.”

“A date with my girlfriend isn’t imbecilic! I’ll have you know that!” Ron chided, pacing his walk to Draco’s extremely quick walk. Is this man half vampire or something?

 “Oh my, poor Granger having to deal with you.” He sighed and swished his robes, making his way to the dungeons with the Gryffindor tailing on him.

* * *

 

“Potter, pass me the vials.” It was midnight and Harry wanted nothing but to catch his sleep after being labored endlessly by this cruel evil merciless woman (read : Parkinson) that they have brewing Amortentia for the last 7 hours or so in the uninhabited part of the library. Harry’s bottom was starting to grow even more sore by sitting in the same place for hours, he wasn’t even allowed to leave the chair!

Harry, who was pretty much half-asleep, was startled by Parkinson’s dangerously calm tone and fumbled for the vials immediately. Once his fingertips brushed the cold glass that was fastened shut by a small cork in each vial, he handled it to the girl that eagerly accepted it with her small hands and spooned it inside. Harry leaned into the bubbling cauldron that had spiraling steam on top of it, the content was a charming shade of a mix of purple and blue, mainly the purple because it was a pretty dominating shade.

Then he took a whiff. _My, my,_ he wanted nothing but to submerge himself into the heavenly liquid, it smelt so amazingly good, so like a particular blonde that Parkinson had to push him away from the potion.

“Merlin, Potter! You almost plunged your whole face into the potion! We need it clear from Potter germs!” Pansy shrieked, leaning forward to check the potion only to freeze right in front of it and took a deep whiff of the aroma and her shoulders visibly relaxed.

Harry raised an un-amused eyebrow, and had too push her away from the potion too, back to her seat. “Potter! What are you doing?”

“Refraining you from plunging yourself into the potion! If you could do it, why can’t I?” Harry crossed his arms.

Pansy smirked, “Now, Potter, stop acting like a petulant child and cut the crap. What did you smell?”

Harry turned wan and shifted uncomfortably in his seat under the piercing eyes of the Slytherin, she can’t know that he smelt his best friend! Pansy however, wasn’t having it, and growled, “Potter, _what_ did you smell?”

“Why is it any of your business?” Harry shot a glare to the bobbed hair girl that with a smug expression on her face.

Pansy averted her focus to her nails, “ _Because,_ Potter, we need to write down what we smelt in the essay that we have to collect to Snape, you moron.” She shoved a piece of parchment into his face and a feathered quill that looks funny. A small part of the quill was transparent with glass, and inside it was overlooking something like water, clear and glassy that is spiraling and activated. The tip of the quill was clear glass, and the feather was a shade of blue. In the glass, a small but noticeable text was engraved, _veridicus._ What does that even mean?

He leaned forward to scrutinize the quill even further and squinted at the spiraling _thing_ inside it, “Parkinson, what kind of quill is this?”

Pansy looked up from her nails and raised her brows in surprise, “Oh, that is a very rare quill with the rarest peacock feather that I obtained for myself whilst my trip in Switzerland, Potter. Now will you get on with it and stop staring at my quill, growing rather tired at this time of night.” She glared.

“No, I mean, this _spirally_ thing.” Harry nodded to the quill, eyes still glued to it.

“Oh, that is a simple luck charm my father set up for me. Now go on with it, Potter, we haven’t got all night.” She drawled airily.

Harry hesitantly dragged the tip of the quill along his scrawny writing, he didn’t want Parkinson from all people to know that he has a crush on Draco! Who is, unfortunately, her best friend. He pondered for a second and an idea popped in his head, he could just write down Ginny’s scent! He vaguely remembered Ginny’s sickening aroma of women’s perfume and this and that shoved into one into a very girly scent! You’re a genius, Potter.

Hastily he quickly wrote down _‘On this Amortentia project, I, Harry Potter, detected an aroma of; treacle tart, a broomstick handle, and something flowery.’_ Reading it again, he grinned to himself _, that would surely convince Parkinson enough._

Satisfied with himself, he determinedly handed the parchment to the girl that was staring at him with a raised eyebrow. She took the parchment and skimmed the writing, _now she will never know._

Not until his self-glory was interrupted by Parkinson’s loud chortle that Harry snapped his head to the now laughing girl. She looked happy almost. Why would she be happy? What the hell is happening?

“What is it?” Harry queried sternly, not one bit amused.

“What you smelt!” Then she went back to laughing like an absolute maniac. What so humorist about all of this?

“Yeah? What’s so funny about treacle tarts, a broomstick handle, and flowers?” Harry listed over the scent he ‘smelt’, still confused by the girl’s sudden weird behaviour.

“What’s so funny is that it’s not what you wrote!” She bursts into another fit of laughter, bending herself over her knees and laughing so loudly it irked the absolute crap our of Harry. What does she mean it’s not what she wrote? Is she high?

Not wanting to deal with her almost mocking fits of mirthful laughter, he snatched the parchment from her hands and absorbed the content that he wrote with squinted eyes.

_‘On this Amortentia project, I, Harry Potter, detected an aroma of; hair gel, vanilla, and apples’._

What.

That was definitely wasn’t what Harry wrote, he remember clearly in his mind that he wrote Ginny’s aroma, not Draco Malfoy’s!

“Parkinson! What the hell is this!” Harry barked, angered glazed eyes still sewn on the parchment, disbelieving what was written in it. How could it had known what he _actually_ smelt?

“It’s what you smelt, idiot! Draco is what!” Pansy giggled, wiggling her eyebrows to the confused boy.

“B-but, I wrote treacle tarts, a broomstick handle, and flowers!” He repeated what he wrote, he was confused beyond belief at this point. He was absolutely, completely, truthfully, and utterly sure that was what he wrote.

“But that isn’t what you actually smelt, was it?” She shot a sly smirk to the agape boy that was sat frozen in his seat, and let out a dramatic sigh. “Let me explain, Harry dear, that spirally thing wasn’t a luck charm, you idiot. I can’t believe you were fooled that easily. It was Veritaserum, so whatever loads of codswallop you write there, will correct you automatically. You can’t lie, Potter.”

Harry’s jaw fell to the ground hearing the statement the girl casually said. Usage of Veritaserum wasn’t allowed in Hogwarts, and how could she have done that to him? This girl was truly a snake.

“You’re not allowed to use Veritaserum!” Harry snarled, standing on his two feet. Pansy  wasn’t even close to being intimidated seeing the fuming man that looks like he was ready to hex her to next year.

“I’m my own person, Potter. I can do whatever I want and I have my ways.” She singsonged and beamed, wiggling her arched eyebrows once again annoyingly.

Harry was excruciatingly infuriated beyond belief with the Slytherin’s snaky attitude, he shot the dirtiest glare he can ever produce in his entire lifetime to the smirking girl. He leaned forward to her and whispered threateningly, “You will not speak about this to a single soul in the universe, understand?”

“But, Potter, I already knew about your little crush to my friend over here. You’re not very good with concealing it, I’ll have you know that for your sake.” Pansy drawled.

The boy visibly paled and his shoulders tense, eyes bulged as he was caught, “Who else knows about this?” Harry urged.

“A little number really. Just me, Hermione, and Blaise.” Parkinson let out a cocky grin, patting the stunned man in the shoulder. Hermione knows that Pansy and Blaise knows? And she hasn’t told him yet? What in Merlin is happening?

“How did _you_ know?” Harry droned, squeezing the girl for every last drop of the truth. Three people knew and he doesn’t?

Parkinson looked offended almost at the question and furrowed her eyebrows, “Darling, I’ve known since 3rd year! I’m not daft, you’ll have to know that.”

But Harry didn’t start liking Draco since 5th year? What is she on about?

“I didn’t like Draco until 5th year?” He informed quietly.

“Stop making all of this about you, Potter. Look at the other side of the story, it’s Draco that likes you since 3rd year, you self centered git! Do you know that I spent 5 years listening to him droning on and on about how good you look? You must pity me, Potter! You have plagued my best friend’s mind!” Parkinson shrieked elatedly, she was utmost glad that she finally drilled the information to one of the lovesick boys. One more to go.

_Draco. Likes you. Likes me. What._

Harry furrowed his eyebrows in disbelief, and shook his head after he processed the impossible words and guffawed loudly, “Funny joke, that, aye, Parkinson!”

He continued to howl with laughter at the statement Parkinson had made, _as if_ the Draco Malfoy would harbor a feeling as sappy as a crush to him. He can’t never imagine a sneering and cold as a rock Draco dissolving into a lovesick and melancholic one, thinking that his love is unrequited and Harry doesn’t love him back.

His laughter was cut short by Parkinson’s stern glare, a serious look etched on her face indicating that she wasn’t even near to lying to him. Oh Merlin’s beard, Draco likes him! He must be acting like a schoolgirl right now because he was pretty sure he was blushing ruby like he was earlier with Hermione because Pansy giggled half-heartedly at his actions. She looked quite relieved, too.

“You weren’t lying, were you, Parkinson?” Harry wheezed in disbelief, beaming even further when she shook his head with a fond smile. He was submerged in giddiness before he realized something else.

“Does he know? That I like him?” He eagerly asked, because if yes, he will march down to the Slytherin chambers and snog the life out of him. Or not. If he hasn’t slapped him first, that is.

Pansy’s face contorts to one of woe and shook her head, “I’ve been trying for the two years with the help from Hermione and Blaise. Sorry, Harry.” She gave a pitiful smile to the now dejected boy, shoulders sagged and leaning even more to his seat.

“We'll have to make him know!” Harry whisper yelled, standing up immediately, unbelievably impatient beyond belief. He _needs_ Draco to know.

He was dragged down to his seat by a pull of the sleeve of his shirt by Parkinson, “Slow down there! We haven’t finished the project, once we put the rest of the potions into vials and write down the rest of the things needed, we’re good to go to your boy, alright, Potter? As much as I would love to see you both snog I can’t afford myself getting whipped by Snape.”

He almost forgot about the potion because of the sudden and overwhelming giddiness, “Right. Let’s finish these first.”

* * *

 

Draco, being the Potions master that he is, proceeded to brew the love potion with exact measurements and focus. Whilst there’s Weasley, doing….whatever he was doing since 3 hours ago. The ginger had been holding a frozen Ashwinder egg for probably half an hour, scrutinizing it whilst Draco has already finished the potion that will suffice to provide them two.

If only Draco didn’t set freezing charms for the Ashwinder egg that is freshly hatched by a serpent that Hagrid gave him, then probably the egg will radiate intense heat into Weasley’s hand and he’ll burn his hands off. How unfortunate.

“Weasley, are you just going to stare into the egg until it hatches? Because it’s not going to. It’s dead.” Draco drawled, boring his eyes into the egg in Weasley’s grip. Poor egg, already infected with Weasley germs.

At the scolding, Weasley leisurely returned the eggs back into the small basket in the table in Draco’s private room. Since not many are returning for this year, 8th year Slytherins have got their own private bedrooms with an en suite included. Very little number of Slytherins came back, not very sure about the other houses, though. Male Slytherins that returned are only himself, Blaise, Theo, and a couple others that Draco never found interesting to associate with directly.

“So, is it done?” Ron asked whilst leaning towards the sleek drawer in front of the bed.

“What is done, Weasley?” Draco asked back blankly.

“The Amortentia, you idiot.”

“ _Oh?_ I’m surprised you even remembered what I was brewing since you were so occupied at staring at the suddenly interesting Ashwinder eggs for the last 3 hours, you did nothing but opening the vials and stirring the brew, Weasley. You didn’t even stir the potions clockwise, you imbecile. I’ll have Snape know about this.” Draco snarled, sighing deeply in the end of his tirade to the stunned Weasley.

“At least I helped,” He muttered back quietly, earning a snort and a “Right.” from the blond.

The ginger sauntered it’s way in front of the bubbling cauldron that has steam coming out from it and took a deep whiff of it and sighed contently, “Hermione.”

Draco’s face twitched to disgust, “Alright. We get it, you’re lovelorn. Woo-hoo, congratulations.” He commented flatly. “Now bugger off and let me sniff.”

He shoved the Weasley to the side and took a deep breath of the potion, what he smelt didn’t surprise him, to the least; _treacle tart, grass, musk, and male cologne._ Potter. He tried so hard not to lean further into the steaming cauldron without burning his face off, but it smelt so good that he couldn’t stay away. This is an aroma he rarely smells, if he couldn’t have Potter, he can at least have his striking scent.

He restrained himself from wanting to drown in the potion by turning around and grabbing a piece of parchment and quill, and quickly wrote down what he smelled.

_‘On this Amortentia project, I, Draco Malfoy, detected an aroma of; treacle tarts, grass, musk, and male cologne.’_

Sighing to himself, he handed the parchment to the Weasley that is deliberately still trying to get another strong whiff of the potion in front of him, “Write down what you smell.”

Nodding, he took the parchment and sat down with a feathered quill in hand, and suddenly snorted to himself reading the piece of parchment.

“Your description oddly fits Harry, mate.” Weasley sniggered and shaking his head to himself and proceeded to drag the quill in his hand to write down what he smelt.

“Because it is, Weasley.” Draco muttered quietly, but unfortunately, the Weasel heard him and as the statement escaped his mouth, his head snapped up as quick as a bolt of lightning and his mouth fell agape as he stared at Draco as if he had grown two heads.

“What did you just say?” He shrieked, dropping the quill in his hand and sat straighter. “You fancy Harry?”

Draco stood shell-shocked and gulped, he was caught. Of bloody course Weasley knows what Harry smells like after eight full years of living with him. Draco you absolute idiot. He wasn’t able to formulate any words, suddenly finding his shoes interesting.

He decided not to say anything, since he embarrassingly stutters when he’s nervous, a habit since he was a child having a stern father and all. However, Draco’s muteness didn’t calm the Weasley even further.

“Merlin! You _do_ fancy Harry!” Weasley frantically spluttered, and started slapping himself in the face and muttering what sounds like “please tell me this is a dream please tell me this is a dream” repeatedly under his breath.

The Weasel was still slapping himself when Draco grew exasperated of his actions, is it really that hard to believe that he liked his best mate? Apparently.

“ _Weasley!_ Stop that! You’re not dreaming!” Draco yelped, stopping the Weasley from his absurd actions. After the episode, his cheek was undeniably bright red with handprints plastered on his pale freckled cheek.

“But, _why exactly Harry?_ Oh my, he’s going to panic if he hears that _you from all people_ fancies him!” The ginger stammered, adding dramatic hand gestures.

“Well he won’t ever hear if you’re going to shut up about it, Weasley!” The blond shrieked so loudly that the Weasley winced and covered his ears.

He heard the door softly open and a voice filled the room, “What won’t I hear, Draco?”

He knew that voice, _he recognizes it,_ and it could only be one person. _Potter._ Draco nervously turned around and hoped that it’s anyone but Potter, but for _Salazar’s sake,_ there was Potter standing in his all-perfect glory and perfect mop of hair even though it looks like a whole cage of bird just nested it’s place atop his head and his stupid glasses and his pink lips and his green eyes and _fuck_. It was Harry.

And of course, Pansy that was waving behind his back with a smirk etched on his face. Fucking Pansy. Why is he not surprised.

At that time, Draco wanted nothing but to be crushed by a running truck and cremate himself and lock his ashes in the depths of the cruelest hell and have some evil demon lock it away and basically torture him. Even that sounded better than confronting Potter.

“Harry! Mate! You won’t believe what is going on!” The freckled git basically sprinted his way from the other side of the room to Harry’s side. Harry just raised an amused eyebrow and nodded to his ginger friend for him to explain what he was about to say, _the very sentence that could destroy Draco’s life._

“Malfoy smelt _you_ in the potion!” _Yup._ There goes his life and reputation. Can’t the Weasley shut up for literally one second? Because he wanted nothing but to annihilate the ginger with the sharpest machete he could ever find and slash him into pieces with his own bare hands that a wand couldn’t do. And probably dump him to the Black Lake too, with Pansy, of course.

Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath, expecting a disgusted comment and Potter storming out of his room or a pitiful look. Whatever his reaction is, he was sure it was between that two and he wasn’t mentally and physically and spiritually prepared for any of the rejections. So Draco just hoped it’s the pitiful look because he can’t really take an angered and revolted version of Harry right now. Not this time, not ever.

Instead, Harry waltzed his way determinedly in front of the blond boy and stopped in front of him. Now, Draco was expecting at least a slap in the face, but what he wasn’t expecting was Potter tilting his chin upwards and leaning forward to brush his lips into his. Nope. This was out of Draco’s expectation.

Draco stilled for a mute second or two, pretty much stunned with his head was lightheaded with disbelief that Harry _fucking_ Potter, the person he had been fanning himself over since 3 rd year, is currently smooching him to oblivion. Merlin, the pair of lips that Draco imagined to be much rougher and dry was as soft as flower petals (a baby's butt, if you will), it slowly moving in propelling command against Draco’s much satiny ones. It moved in sync like it was dancing, although he would say the correct word was _brawling._ Draco’s head was completely blank now and he looped the much taller man by his neck, pulling him to his height.

Harry’s teeth grazed in contact with his bottom lip, earning a muffled whimper from the boy. He swore he heard the Weasley shriek hysterically but he couldn’t find himself to care anymore at this moment. All he could focus on was how good Harry’s lips feels as he let him dominate, Draco too exhausted to even care. He let him took control and gave himself in to his power. He didn’t want it to end. He never wanted it to end in the slightest.

Harry’s kisses slowed down and Draco’s mind was all over the place, he felt dizzy and his chest hurt but he wanted more, he wanted Harry. He dove right up to his lips again, giving it a small peck and felt Harry smile under his lips, but unfortunately he leant back to end the kiss and Draco let out a small needing whine.

“Oi! Lovebirds! I’m still here and I’m pretty sure Weasley isn’t alright here!” Pansy yelped and muttered _‘idiot’_ and sure enough, there was Ron that was sprawled in the single sofa, staring at his hands and muttering at himself.

Harry gave out a small chuckle looking at his too-shocked friend, “I think we broke him.” His arms were still laced around Draco’s waist, and it felt so warm.

“Hermione is not going to believe this to the slightest.” Ron muttered, fiddling with his hands and glancing up wanly at the new couple.

“Oh, Ron dear, Hermione already knows before all of us.” Pansy chastised, beaming at Harry and Draco lazily.

“And I’m _the only one_ that doesn’t know?” Ron screeched loudly and knitted his eyebrows under the pitiful looks shot to him. “Merlin, why am I _always the last one_ to know!”

“Because you’re apparently daft, daft head is to idiotic understand anything, Weasley.” The bobbed haired girl reprimanded, shooting a glare to the sat boy.

Weasley retorted back, "You seem to be a bloody huge fan of calling people idiots, Parkinson."

They continued the snarky banter, shooting glare towards each other and chiding each other endlessly and basically acting like two absolute children. Draco just sighed looking at the two and placed his head into the raven’s shoulder, finding it even warmer that he thought it would be. Harry was an inch taller than him and it was honestly no problem at all, Draco liked feeling small and protected at times. Probably because he was never allowed to do so by his father. He was taught to be a dominant man that is stricken with power, not a submissive one that is currently snuggling his way into Harry Potter’s shoulder that he surprisingly found so warm.

“I smelt you too, you know. In the potion.” Harry smirked half-heartedly to the currently tomato blond, rubbing soothing circles in his back in action to relief his tenseness. Draco still can’t process any of this, thank you very much.

Earlier this day he still remembered ranting to Pansy about Harry, and now he is under his possessive grip and he dared to admit that he liked it. Heck, he loved it more than anything even.

“Me too, it always scented of you since 6th year.” Draco snorted.

“Guess what, _me too._ But I didn’t want to admit it just yet, then.” Harry gave a pure, beatific smile and Draco swore he almost collapsed looking at it.

“Oh?” Draco asked faintly, “So is this your way of admitting now?”

“That kiss admitted enough, didn’t it?” The raven leered and wiggled his brows.

“It was perfect, but it wasn’t enough.” And Draco jumped at the boy to connect their lips again once more, already missing the feel of another pair of lips gliding in synch with his. And he knew from then, that _all was well._

**Author's Note:**

> this is an unfinished pic from june! i felt so bad for not finishing it so i finished it in a day!
> 
> also, "veridicus" translates to the word "truthful" in latin.
> 
> leave a kudos and please comment what you think! also my tumblr is @velvetvader ! see you there! <3


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